


I belong to all of your mysteries

by blackkat



Series: Jon Antilles prompts [6]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Friendship, Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:47:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25506916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: Cody calls the statue just inside the gates of the graveyard creepy. Rex has mostly just thought it’s interesting, but—Maybe he’s starting to see where Cody is coming from.
Relationships: Jon Antilles/CT-7567 | Rex
Series: Jon Antilles prompts [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1941646
Comments: 18
Kudos: 481





	I belong to all of your mysteries

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: Rex/Jon - Jon is a guardian statue is a graveyard, meant to protect the spirits of the dead as they pass on/keep the ground hallowed etc. Rex is visiting a headstone on the regular :( and is like... hey... that statue... moves..? is in different poses? wtf. but like, quite tender b/c Jon can tell Rex for Fact that his loved one may not be Here any longer, but they are Safe and Well. idk this might be a bit sad but I was going for a more comfort / sweet angle. make what you will, if you so choose

Cody calls the statue just inside the gates of the graveyard creepy. Rex has mostly just thought it’s interesting, but—

Maybe he’s starting to see where Cody is coming from.

Stock-still, Rex stares at the figure of the hooded man, frozen in stone. He’s entirely, stone-cold certain that the statue was in front of the mausoleum last weekend, and while he could maybe believe that some industrious groundskeeper had decided to move it, that doesn’t account for its change in position. Which shouldn’t be _possible_.

And yet, the statue’s hands are loosely clasped today, his head bent over them. Last weekend, he had one raised, palm-up. Rex knows that, because he put a flower in the statue’s palm. One rose, in silent thanks for its watchfulness.

He can't see any trace of the flower, but…there's a stone rose tucked into the hem of the statue’s sleeve, and Rex _knows_ that that wasn’t there even a few days ago.

Maybe, Rex thinks, he’s been visiting Jango's grave for too long. Maybe Cody's right and he should take a break.

He won't, though.

With an aggrieved sigh, Rex scrubs a hand over his short hair, then pulls a violently red lily from the bouquet he’s carrying. Carefully, gently, he tucks it between the statue’s clasped hands, then steps back and says, “Thanks for looking out for them,” because that seems like a safe thing. Pauses, wondering if he should address the moving, but decides he’s probably better off not doing so, and just turns on his heel, making his way down the familiar path towards Jango's grave.

The statue isn't standing just past the gates on Rex's next visit. He isn't in front of the mausoleum, either. Rex doesn’t actually find him until after he’s dropped off Jango's flowers and turned away, and—

Well. Maybe he takes a walk through the gravestones just to try to find the statue. But that’s fine. He has nowhere to be, and the fact that he’s curious at all is probably what Kix would call a good sign.

He doesn’t have flowers this time, which he only realizes when he spots the statue standing by a small pond. The man doesn’t have his hands clasped, is standing looking down into the water serenely, but—

There's a stone lily clasped in one hand, a stone rose tucked in the hem of his sleeve.

“I,” Rex says out loud, heartbeat just a little faster than it should be, “have watched _way_ too many Doctor Who marathons for this.”

There's no response from the statue, though.

“Shit,” Rex mutters, but—he’s blinked plenty of times and hasn’t gotten his face eaten yet. This probably isn't any sort of Weeping Angel. And—maybe it’s some kind of joke, though he can't imagine how the stately old groundskeeper is pulling it off. Nico has a sense of humor, but—not _that_ much of one.

Still, even if it _is_ just a joke, Rex feels entirely awkward to have sought the statue out without even a flower for him. A little desperate, he digs into his pockets, and comes up with a wrapped chocolate from lunch. It’s not even very melted.

“Hey,” Rex says, and steps off the path, putting himself right in front of the statue. “Enjoying the water features?” He ducks his head a little, looking up beneath that bowed head, the concealing stone folds of the hood, and thinks he can catch a hint of a scarred mouth, turned up just faintly.

He’s never noticed that the statue was smiling before.

“I guess you are,” Rex says, and refuses to acknowledge that there's something soft in his chest over a _statue_ smiling. Reaching out, he slips the chocolate into the statue’s hand, beside the lily, and then lets his own rest there for a moment. Thinks, like always, of the grave in the corner beneath the tree, and the flowers he just left there, and sighs.

“He was a bit of a bastard,” he says to the statue. “But he was _our_ bastard, you know? I'm not sure how far your whole…keeping watch thing extends, but. I’d appreciate it if you could make sure he’s not going to come back as a ghost and be trapped here for eternity or something. Cody's already neurotic enough about things as it is.”

There's no answer, of course. Rex mutters a curse at himself and pulls back, then firmly turns on his heel and walks away.

He doesn’t look back at the statue, even though he feels the itch of eyes on the back of his neck all the way to the cemetery gates.

Rex doesn’t make it to the graveyard until after sunset the next weekend, and even that is close. Nico is at the gates, about to close them, when Rex hurries up, clutching the last bouquet of flowers he was able to buy at the corner store, sad and already drooping.

“Sorry,” Rex says, and feels his heart sink as Nico raises a brow at him. “I just—I’ll leave them really quick and be out of your hair.”

Nico snorts quietly, but opens the gate to let Rex through. “The side door is always open,” he says, tipping his head at it. “Take as much time as you like, and come whenever you’d care to.”

“Thanks,” Rex says, a little bewildered by the allowance. Nico looks like he’d be at least a little rulebound. “But…won't you get in trouble for letting people in after hours?”

“I don’t let people in after hours,” Nico says. “Just you. And you shouldn’t be in danger. Jon likes you.”

Something cold and unsettling slides down Rex's spine. “Jon?” he asks warily.

Nico is already turning away, though, waving a hand. “Avoid the garden,” he says. “Fay still hasn’t decided if you're acceptable.”

“ _What_?” Rex demands, but Nico is gone, heading down the path with quick steps. For a moment, Rex debates chasing after him and demanding answers, but—

He got leave to come into the cemetery whenever he wants, and that’s already a kindness he didn’t expect. Taking a breath, he tells himself that Nico is just…confused, or something, and turns to find Jango's grave.

When he rounds the corner, though, there's already a man sitting beside it.

Rex goes still, staring. A man in a cloak with a deep hood is seated on the grass, turning a bright red lily between his hands. His head is bent, hood pulled back just enough for Rex to see his face, and—

The statue, Rex thinks, bewildered. But—not stone. A living, breathing man, watching Jango's grave, with a lily in his hands and a rose threaded into the hem of his sleeve.

Oh, Rex thinks, and swallows hard.

“You know,” he says, “when I asked you to make sure he didn’t come back, I didn’t mean guard duty. Maybe just an exorcism.”

The statue—the _man_ looks up, and there's that slant to his mouth, a shadow of a smile that makes his scarred face into something kind. “Thank you for the chocolate,” he says, low, soft, and Rex can't resist the urge to smile back.

“I didn’t bring anything today,” he admits. “I thought I was going to miss this visit entirely.”

“Speaking with you is nice,” the man says, not quite meeting Rex's eyes. “I mostly only speak to Nico and Knol and Fay.”

“That means you're Jon?” Rex asks, and lays the flowers in front of the headstone, then takes a seat under the tree, right next to the man.

He nods, folding his hood back all the way. “And you're Rex,” he says softly. “I saw Jango across. He wanted you to know not to spend all your time in front of graves.”

Something in Rex's chest lurches, but he snorts, leaning back on his hands. “He’s a stubborn old man,” he says. “If we _didn’t_ leave flowers, he’d throw a fit.”

Jon ducks his head, hiding the true smile that flickers across his face. “Probably,” he allows. “But you shouldn’t dwell forever.”

“I won't,” Rex says easily, and knows it’s true. “Having the routine is nice, though.” Pausing, he considers, and then smiles a little. “Besides, if I didn’t, I never would have realizes that statues could move.”

“I'm only a statue during the day,” Jon says, faintly defensive. “I'm—guarding.”

Rex weighs his question for a long moment before he asks, “Can you leave?”

Jon hesitates. “Yes,” he finally says, though he doesn’t sound certain about it. “I've never tried, though.”

Tucking that knowledge away for later, Rex gives him a smile. “Do you mind me distracting you?” he asks. “I was thinking I’d start coming after dark, if you don’t mind.”

“No,” Jon says softly, and the way he’s watching Rex is—everything. “I don’t mind.”

“Good,” Rex says, pleased, and leans back beside him, just a handful of inches of space between them in the twilight.


End file.
